A Dark and Laughing Rain
by BlackRoseDragonCK
Summary: One-shot. The rain was quite nostalgic tonight. No matter how hard Watari tried, he could not shake the memory of a similar day so many years ago. Glancing at Lawliet, whose dark eyes were absorbed in a book...he wondered if the detective too recalled that afternoon...and the mysterious song Watari had heard him singing. Watari and L family, no yaoi. Cover included.


**I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE BY TSUGUMI OHBA OR GAETA'S LAMENT FROM BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, SUNG BY ALESSANDRO JULIANI, WRITTEN BY MICHAEL ANGELI, COMPOSED BY KAREN ANGELI AND BEAR MCREARY**

**Hi there :)! This is my very first Death Note fic. L's voice actor, Alessandro Juliani, has a beautiful voice and he sings a cool, haunting lullaby in Battlestar Galactica (never seen the show but I've heard the song). I decided to use that song in a fanfic and changed the meaning to it plus the word "she" to fit L. After you read this, you can hear Lawliet singing the song on you tube XD. It's called Gaeta's lament. Anyways, this fic takes place before the Kira case. Please enjoy :D!**

**X**

Nature could be such a fickle creature of nostalgia at times. It picked the oddest moments to reminisce on moments that had passed days, months, perhaps even centuries ago. Sometimes, these instances were pleasurable, bringing a smile to one's face. Other times…they were not. Others still were neutral, being neither joyous nor melancholy…but caught in some grey area between.

It was the latter classification that Watari was experiencing on this night as he sat in a plush leather chair in his study. The room itself was perfectly comfortable. Decorated with a vintage Victorian style, it housed a small sitting area, a good-sized book shelf, and a mahogany desk placed next to a wall of floor-to-sealing windows. A roaring fireplace did its best to expel the cold of the English night air. Tonight, however…it seemed to do very little against the fury of the environment.

Through the windows, Watari glimpsed a relentless rainstorm. Water poured in exponential quantities from the sky, painting the shadowed city in dusky colors. In spite of the storm, however…the moon was left mostly uncovered by clouds. Silvery moonlight reflected off the falling raindrops. It was almost as if the moon were attempting to fend off the rain…but the latter merely laughed at its opponent's efforts, continuing to dance on the drenched pavement.

The assistant ran a hand through his snowy hair. His frown deepened, adding wrinkles to his normally cheerful face. It wasn't the foreboding nature of the weather that bothered him…but the memory it had caused to resurface. He couldn't get it out of his mind. Straightening his spectacles, Watari cast a subtle glance at the protagonist of the memory…his adopted son, Lawliet.

The youth was sitting on the couch across from him. Well… "sitting" wasn't exactly the right word. "Perching" fit the description better. It was one of Lawliet's more prominent quirks to settle into his seat with his feet up on the cushion and his knees drawn against his chest. He claimed that sitting normally reduced his deductive skills by forty percent. Watari wasn't positive of the validity of this claim…but he decided not to argue since Lawliet, otherwise known to the public as "L", was perhaps the best detective on the planet. His genius was unsurpassed by any other investigator in existence.

Of course…with this profound intellect came an unpredictable conglomeration of oddities. One was the odd sitting position, accompanied by a seemingly permanent hunch in Lawliet's posture. He couldn't seem to stand up straight, no matter how many times Watari threatened to put him in a back brace.

The second quirk was Lawliet's appearance. His skin was as white as a corpse, practically glowing in the firelight. Raven-colored hair stood in stark contrast to the ivory flesh. It reached down to his thin shoulders, sporting an unruly style that made it look as if it had not seen a brush in decades.

Matching the dark hair was Lawliet's most striking feature…his eyes. They were large and blacker than a starless night. Shades of deep azure and gunmetal might have been present in the irises…but they were completely over-powered by the fathomless obsidian. Deep grey circles lay beneath the eyes. Despite Watari's efforts to instill healthy sleeping habits within the detective as a child, Lawliet had never been one to advocate rest. The sleep-deprived rings were now every bit a part of him as the eyes themselves. Although they made him look tired at first glance…very little could detract from the piercing awareness and staggering intelligence that glinted in his gaze.

Truly, the youth in his twenties was reasonably handsome…in a dark, enigmatic, unsettling way. However, he had no interest in showing off his looks. He would rather lock himself up in a dark room and delve into a world of problems and puzzles…just as he was doing now.

Next to him on the couch, Lawliet had stacked up a pile of books. He had arranged them in a carefully-constructed tower, much like he often did with his food. The elder man knew that his adopted son was bored, having no intriguing cases to work on at present. He shunned outdoor activities on the best of days. Reading was the next best pastime to investigating.

Currently, the youth was absorbed in one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's _Sherlock Holmes _novels. He chewed at the tip of his pinky, holding the book haphazardly on his lap. His eyes were somewhat entertained…but they did not have that excited glint he exhibited during fascinating cases. Every so often, Watari would hear him grunt or mutter something along the lines of, "any man with a shred of deductive reasoning skills could have made that connection, Mr. Holmes."

Watari knew that Lawliet's brain was powerful. It needed stimulation. However…he sometimes suspected that the detective needed constant incentive…so that his heart would not begin to reflect on moments from the past.

This suspicion was only being further encouraged as the evening lagged onward. Normally, Lawliet would be sucking on a lollipop or feasting on cake of some sort. He had always harbored a deep affinity for sweets as well as a need to constantly be doing something with his mouth. Tonight…he had resorted to chewing each of his nails ragged. It was as if something were troubling him…something that made his stomach too unsettled to accept food. Perhaps…it was the same recollection that nagged at his mentor's brain.

Watari let his gaze wander the window. Rain still pounded a steady rhythm outside…that nostalgic rain. His eyes misted over…and he allowed himself to relive that aged memory.

_It was a particularly cold and dreary day in England. Foul-tempered clouds shrouded the early evening sky, making the normally pleasant Wammy's House seem particularly bleak. Even Watari's sage, smiling face could do little to lighten the mood of this weather. The rain was laced with melancholy…each drop weighing on his heart. _

_ Of course…perhaps it was merely the combination of the storm and the worries plaguing the kindly man. He had recently welcomed a new child into his orphanage…a small boy named Lawliet. His parents were, of course, deceased…and the child was unfortunately old enough to remember and miss them. _

_ Normally, Watari would have been used to such situations. He had brought many a troubled child into his institution for gifted orphans. But…there was something different about this one. _

_ Lawliet's personality…was nothing short of strange. This was to be expected from a broken boy who had lost everything…but his case was somehow different. The way he walked…sat…talked…ate…even the way he looked…it was like nothing the founder had seen before. He displayed so many quirks, including only using his thumb and forefinger to pick things up and refusing to wear shoes. These were only two examples in a long list of habits. Perhaps it was a sign of his untapped genius…or perhaps it was a warning of eventual madness. _

_ Either way…Lawliet was his charge. It was Watari's responsibility to make him feel as comfortable as possible, no matter how disconcerting an atmosphere the rain created. _

_ Finally, the man arrived outside Lawliet's room. A thick wood door built into the orphanage's stone walls stood before him. The room beyond was silent as the grave. It was more than a little unsettling._

_Clearing his throat, Watari smoothed out the dark brown suit he wore. He raised his fist to knock…and froze when a sound came from within. The sound…was Lawliet's young, soft voice. But…he wasn't talking. He was singing. _

_Pressing his ear to the door, Watari could not make out the words. He could only hear a slow, haunting tune…one that oddly matched the rhythm of the rain. The founder gingerly grasped the brass doorknob. He gave it a twist and eased the door open just a crack. _

_The small room, shared by three boys, was completely dark. No lamp was turned on…no candle was lit to combat the darkness. The only light came in a feeble, pallid form from the cloudy afternoon sky. _

_Unpleasant as it would have been to most boys…it seemed to suit Lawliet. The boy was balancing on a stool at the window, propping his arms on the sill. He stared into the maelstrom with those black, all-encompassing eyes. However…he did not seem to see anything. In fact…he looked as though he were off in his own world. He didn't even notice Watari studying him from the doorway. _

_Eyes glazed over, Lawliet reached a small pale hand out the open window. He caught a few of the raindrops on his palm, undaunted by their coldness. He opened his mouth…and resumed his reminiscent tune. _

_Watari listened for a few more moments. Then…he silently closed the door…and departed down the hall once more. The child was clearly indulging in a private moment…a luxury he would not have when his roommates returned. He need not be disturbed,_

_Even so…Watari was curious. Maybe…he would ask him one day. _

The assistant swallowed hard as the recollection ended. His eyes snapped back to Lawliet, still engrossed in his reading. Now seemed like the perfect time to ask…no…the only time to ask. There might not be another day when Lawliet's time was not consumed by detective work…one that so mirrored the day many years ago.

Watari cleared his throat. "L…I mean…Lawliet."

The youth did not raise his head…but his dark eyes flicked upward. They stared at Watari through a curtain of ebony bangs, intense as always.

"Yes? What is it Watari?" His voice was deep now…but it was still soft, almost inaudible at times.

The assistant reached up and fiddled with his glasses. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous. Maybe he feared that L would not forgive him for spying on him all those years ago. Or…maybe he was afraid of the answer he would receive, if his question was even dignified with a response.

"I was…thinking about something that happened many years ago…" he began.

Lawliet gazed unblinkingly back at him, chewing at his thumb.

"…at…Wammy's House….during your first few days there."

The detective studied him a moment longer. Then, he lowered his hand and placed aside the book he'd been reading. He splayed his hands over his bony, jean-clad knees, hunching forward even more than he already was. His feet rubbed against each other, illustrating another tick he had when he was thinking.

"Based on the manner in which you are dragging out your sentences to needlessly long lengths, I can easily conclude that you are about to touch on something uncomfortable," he announced, leaning his colorless cheek on his hand with a calm expression.

His assistant's face heated. No matter how many years he spent with the boy, it was still disconcerting to have someone who was essentially his child read his intentions so easily. Watari curled his fingers into fists, striving to still their agitated fidgeting.

"Not…not necessarily," was his lame retort.

Lawliet sighed. He sat back on the couch, still hugging his knees to his chest. "I am no longer a child, Watari. Whatever it is, I can handle it."

_"Can you…?"_ the old man thought. _"Can I really ask you to revisit that dreadful day?" _

Silence ensued for a tense few seconds. Finally…Watari got up the nerve to speak. "I visited you on one of the first few days of your arrival…" he murmured. "It was raining heavily. The storm…was very much like the one raging outside right now."

The detective studied him with those black-rimmed eyes for a long moment. Biting his pinky, he muttered, "I recall that day…however, I do not remember you coming to see me."

"Yes, well…" Watari's fists clenched uncomfortably. "…you did not see me…but I saw you."

Lawliet tilted his head, contemplating this. His gaze wandered toward the window…and the squall raging outside. Watari too took in the sight of the rain. He felt as if he would be dragged into the memory once more.

Barely hearing his own words, he said, "I stuck my head through the door…and you were sitting in the dark by the open window. You were…singing. It was the only time I have ever heard you do so."

Lawliet's expression hardened a bit. His body froze. He ceased biting his pinky…but did not remove the finger from his mouth. He seemed…paralyzed.

Watari swallowed hard. He had passed the point of no return now. He might as well press on. "…It was a haunting tune you sang that day. I knew not what it was…but I have never forgotten it. I was wondering…if you could explain it to me. What were you doing that day…and what was that lullaby?"

For the longest time, Lawliet remained as still and pale as a concrete angel. Watari couldn't make out his full expression from the profile view he currently had. His heart thudded.

Then…the raven-haired youth let his hand fall from his mouth. It laid on the back of the couch in a slow, almost dreamlike movement. Lawliet bent his head so that his dark locks fell over his face. He then opened his mouth. Instead of a giving response…he sang a familiar tune.

_"Alone he sleeps in the shirt of man…with my three wishes clutched in his hand."_

The breath was knocked from Watari's lungs. He gawked at his protégé, knowing he probably looked completely ridiculous…but not caring a bit. Lawliet…had a shockingly pleasant voice. It sounded much more mature than it had…yet it still held that soft, calming tone of a child. The song itself…was that evocative melody of a day long since passed.

"…_The first that he be spared the pain…that comes from a dark and laughing rain…"_ Lawliet lifted his hand, his pale skin seeming to blend in with the long-sleeved white shirt he wore. He curled his fingers as if he were still in that lonely orphanage room, catching the raindrops.

"…_When he finds love may it always be true…this I beg for the second wish I made too…:"_

Watari's very core was frozen. He stared at the young man with utter fixation. The song was like a lullaby…but it had a definite brogue of sorrow shadowing every note.

"…_But wish no more. My life you can take…to have him please just one day wake…to have him please just one day wake…"_ Lawliet's voice grew harder with each verse. His eyes were tightly shut_. "…To have him please just one day wake…to have him please...just one day…wake."_

Silence consumed the room once more. The song was over. Watari blinked, feeling as though he had just been awakened from a trance. The detective was motionless for quite some time. Finally, he opened his eyes. Sluggishly, he turned back to gaze upon his assistant. His eyes were slightly glazed.

"I assume…that was the tune to which you were referring?" Lawliet inquired, sounding tired.

Watari gave a hesitant nod. "Yes…I would recognize it anywhere." His expression grew worried when he noticed the tension in his son's body. "Lawliet…tell me, child. How did you learn that song?"

The youth involuntarily bit down so hard on his thumb that he winced. Absently he wiped it across his T-shirt. His eyes grew distant.

"It is a lullaby," he murmured. "One that my mother would sing to me back when I used to sleep at night."

Watari felt as if an electrical current had just jolted his system. Daggers of discomfort sliced at his heart…and he hoped desperately that he hadn't caused the young man any serious despair. L's depressions could lag on for long periods of time, he knew. During that time, he would do nothing but mope and eat sweets, still retaining his underweight physique all the while.

Right as the philanthropist was deciding it would be best not to push the issue any farther…Lawliet elaborated.

"I never got the chance to ask Mother...however I can with reasonable certainty decipher the poetic meaning behind her words. She said that she had three wishes for me. One…was that my foes would never best me."

"'The first that he be spared the pain that comes from a dark and laughing rain'?" Watari raised his brows.

Lawliet nodded. "The second was that any love I found would never forsake me…and the third was that if I were to fall into despair…that I would always awaken."

"Despair…" Watari frowned.

"Indeed…" Lawliet tugged at one of his ebony bangs. "That day at the orphanage…I was attempting to pull myself out of the misery I had fallen into. I failed."

His gaze snapped to his assistant. To Watari's surprise…a rare smile ghosted across his pallid features. "Fortunately, my mother's second and third wishes came true. Your love and care…you were always loyal to me. Because of you…I was able to come out of my despair and become the best detective of them all."

The youth looked pointedly at the Sherlock Holmes novel he had tossed aside. His assistant shook his head in mock disapproval at his cockiness…but he was glowing on the inside. He hadn't truly realized until now that there had been a nagging doubt in the back of his mind regarding whether or not he had done an adequate job raising Lawliet. Now…those fears had been laid to rest.

Lawliet turned to look at the storm again. "It looks as though the rain is slacking…" he announced.

Watari agreed. It was almost as if nature agreed with his decision to solve an ancient, lingering mystery.

Lawliet pushed off the couch, knocking over his leaning tower of books as he did so. He didn't seem to care. Bare feet padding on the carpeted floor, the young detective made his way over to the desk. He powered up his laptop and stood, hunched over the screen.

Watari tilted his head perplexedly. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for a new case," Lawliet replied, chewing his index finger. "My mind pines for stimulations…I need problems…I need work." His black eyes flicked upward. He looked rather ghoulish with the silvery-blue light of the computer screen shining on his insipid face. Another small smile played on his lips. "I also…need some pound cake."

His assistant blinked. Then, he laughed heartily. "Very well, my boy," he said, walking to the study door. "Chocolate or strawberry?"

"Strawberry," Lawliet answered.

Watari smiled. As he left the room and started down the hall, the rain had almost completely halted. However…he could still hear Lawliet's soft, melodious voice humming his mother's lullaby through the door.

_"Alone he sleeps in the shirt of man...with my three wishes clutched in his hand. The first that he be spared the pain...that comes from a dark and laughing rain..."_

**X**

**Hopefully not too bad for my first try :). I hope you liked and please, please review! Please no flames. Oh, and I am in no way slamming Sherlock Holmes. I love Holmes and thought it would be humorous to have Lawliet thinking he's a better detective XD.**

**I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE**


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